


Before It's Too Late

by xoinks



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 22:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12803910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoinks/pseuds/xoinks
Summary: Sometimes, we get the opportunity to try again.





	Before It's Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea, ever since the end of ROK. It has gone through a lot over the past few years (sometimes including being completely forgotten about whoops), but I hope this final version is something you will all enjoy!

He knew Misaki had to go.

The determined flare in Misaki's eyes told the whole story - Anna was his King. Anna was the most important person to him right now. Fushimi could tease, and point out that Misaki had come to him first. But the urge to fight alongside Homra, and fight for his King, was the strongest bond in his world.

_And that was something he could live with._

He frowned, and pressed his lips together.

"Just go,"

There was jealousy. And maybe there always would be, when it came to Misaki. Misaki was the center of his small world, for a long time and arguably one of the only figures of importance in his earlier years. Misaki was someone so hot-headed and sharp-tongued, but had shown Fushimi a softer side, a side he had long considered family.

Misaki threw his head back up to stare at Fushimi. His mouth opened, as if he thought protesting would really change Fushimi's mind about being left behind amongst the rubble.

"Listen, _Monkey_ \--!!"

Fushimi sighed, as Misaki grunted his frustrations. His eyes drifted down towards the blood, sluggishly oozing from his thigh. He wouldn't be much good, in the final attack. Ridiculous. So he would just have to sit up here, and wait for some dumb moron to come back and save him again---

"I'm not into working overtime, without pay,"

"What?? But--"

"Hurry up, and get going. You have a job to do, don't you? I can get out of here by myself,"

The painful jolt pulsing up his leg was something he couldn't so easily ignore, after all. It felt slick with blood, and he felt a little light-headed. But he kept a straight face. He had to keep up the charade, until Misaki walked out that hallway.

Misaki gave him a questionable (and angry) look, stubborness keeping his feet firmly planted to the floor. Fushimi's fingers twitched against the cement. For years, he had been able to think up of just the right phrases and sentences to keep Misaki at bay. But in this moment, his tongue felt dry, and his words felt jumbled.

"Misaki..."

He looked up at him, and Misaki looked back down at him. His eyes were round with surprise. It had been a while, of course, since Fushimi had called his attention back to him in such a gentle manner.

_Yes, that's right you idiot._

"...I'll think about how I can say things, so even a moron like you can understand,"

That seemed to do the trick.

Misaki's eyes brightened immediately, and that smile crossed his features, as he turned away, and waved towards Fushimi.

"All right! Let's talk more later! Don't you think you can get out of this one, Saru!"

Fushimi smiled, and waved him off. His eyes settled on his retreating figure, until he couldn't make out anything in the dust of the rubble around him. He leaned back on the palms of his hands, and stared at the ceiling above him.

"Simple minded... stupid... ignorant. That idiot barely understands anything,"

Finally, he was able to grit his teeth, and let out a shaky breath. There were few times in his life, he could remember the pain being so unbearable. He wouldn't dare show it in front of his part--ex-partner. That guy would be all over him with bandages, and alcohol in a heartbeat. His fingernails scraped against the scraps of cement below his fingertips.

"Tch, no wonder I would fight the world just for him,"

He smirked, and laughed shakily. Maybe the pain was making him go all soft and loopy. Oh wouldn't that be a treat for Misaki to come back to? He would never hear the end of it of course, and probably have his own personal nurse-maid for the next few months. In all his basic medical knowledge, injuries such as this were easy to inflict, and incredibly slow to heal. The knife had gone right through his semitendinosus. Such an injury ran the risk of complications, and Fushimi would be lucky to ever walk without a limp again. Fushimi was certain such a thing (coupled with his reconciliation with Misaki) would imply one thing, and one thing only to his nosy co-workers, and that was--

His thoughts stilled, and he looked over his shoulder.

The pounding of a mass of JUNGLE thugs echoed through the halls.

His eyes narrowed, and he took in his surroundings. Fushimi had no knives, remaining. He could take a one in a million chance, and let himself drop down the hole Sukuna had tumbled down. He could try to wobble to his feet, and limp away to the best of his abilities.

Or...

Weakly, Fushimi rose to his feet. Green light began to flood his vision.

Maybe he had already sacrificed enough. Maybe he had already played his part on the Green King's board. But Fushimi was stubborn. He had gone into this, knowing the possible end game and had accepted it. And... besides, Misaki and so many others were defending the halls with their lives, for the sake of the Silver King.

While Shiro may be nothing short of an idiot, he was here with a job to do. And Fushimi had to make sure his betrayal charade and months of effort at this dump, wasn't going to go down the toilet, and hinder that job from reaching completion.

Time to put in that overtime.

He winced, as the blood poured from his thigh, and dripped to the floor. The echoing thunder and roar of the approaching members of JUNGLE blocked out all sound, and it made his ears ring.

"...100 points,"

And the world exploded in green and red.

**...**

**\------**

**...**

It had been two weeks, since JUNGLE fell. And many, were still wondering if the loss had been worth the gain.

It was a bittersweet ending, to the tragic tale that wove around the Dresden Slates. Too much was lost, and too many weren't here to celebrate the passing of the power of the Kings. Though it was Springtime, Winter still kept a firm hold on the city. Grief choked the warmth in the city, and turned it chilled and humid.

Misaki rarely slept, these days.

Most nights, he spent alone--ignoring Kamamoto's texts and phone calls, and just curled up under the covers, or stared out his window. Secretly, he had hoped the new cherry blossoms this year would bring something else new with it. A whole new take, on his relationship with Fushimi, and the hope that the buds would blossom into something amazing.

His gaze was blank, as he toppled over to let his head hit hard against the pillow.

It was just like after Mikoto and Totsuka died. Only everyone wanted to be around him, and nobody would leave him alone this time around. And tomorrow was---

Misaki rubbed furiously at his eyes, willing the tears back. That shitty, selfish asshole. He had promised (well, in his own very Fushimi-like way) they would finally fucking talk. After all these years, things were finally going to change. In the short distance to his assigned floor, back in the guts of JUNGLE, he found himself going over a million different possibilities.

Maybe they could even get a new place together.

Not their old place.

A new place was better. For a new start, or some shit like that. The old memories, at the old place, were long gone. They needed new ones, and new happy thoughts of one-another.

He buried his face into the pillow, and willed back a frustrated scream. It wasn't fair. Misaki bit his lip, and his fingers dug into the palm of his hand. He needed to feel something, and couldn't do anything to stop the blame. He blamed himself for not throwing that shitty monkey right back on his back, and taking him with him. Or telling the blues to get off their lazy asses, and help out for a change instead of 'watching guard outside' or whatever...

It had to have been three days, the last time he had gotten any fucking sleep.

His cheek was pressed against the pillow, and his eyes a bit hazy as they settled on looking back out the window. A large, dark owl was roosting on the rooftop across from his apartment, and Misaki could have sworn he locked eyes with it.

 _Creepy_ , he thought, before his eyelids began to slide shut, and sleep finally came for him again.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: xoinks


End file.
